


Comfort

by orphan_account



Series: Ashaya [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien anatomy, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Post Gamesters of Triskelion, Scars, Vulcan anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 11:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Deleted Scene fromHope“I didn’t think you’d join me in a water shower.  You hate these.”“I find myself quite willing to endure many a thing I once considered unpleasant, if you are there to participate with me,” Spock’s soft voice murmured.Jim is exhausted and feeling a little insecure.  Spock takes care of him.





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> So this was the NSFW deleted scene from Hope, an AU of the episode The Gamesters of Triskelion. I totally forgot I was writing this, until a lovely reviewer reminded me, so I finished it last night and here it is! 
> 
> No real warnings for this fic, but if I missed a tag, or if the formatting is weird, please feel free to let me know.

Gamma shift was far too exhausting for his liking, and the dusty, lifeless desert planet had left him with the feeling of a second skin begging to be scrubbed away by a real and proper water shower. Jim didn’t linger when Mr. Scott showed up to take the conn, and Jim only gave Spock a passing glance as his XO was finishing up his last reports to the Lieutenant taking over his station.

Jim stepped through his quarters, single-minded as he stripped out of his uniform, letting the smell of dirt and sweat peel away with the fabric. He dropped it into the laundry chute, then moved into the bathroom he shared with Spock, heading right for the water shower. He set the temperature higher than he normally used it, and was grateful he’d been using the sonic for the past few weeks, so his water rations were higher than usual.

The first spray set a cloud of steam brushing across Jim’s face like a caress, and he groaned when the warm shower cascaded across his shoulders. His clenched muscles ached, and the scars across his back from the Triskelion twinged still, but it was welcome, in a way. He turned to face the wall, putting both hands on the cool tiles, and he tipped his head forward, letting the water gently pound along the sore muscles of his neck.

So engrossed in decompressing, Jim didn’t hear the door to the bathroom slide open, nor did he hear the soft noise of cloth hitting the bathroom floor. He was aware of nothing but the soothing water until a cool hand brushed across his lower back. To his credit, he only startled a little, and knew the familiar touch instantly. He didn’t turn, but arched into the clever fingers pressing into his skin, and let out another soft groan.

“I didn’t think you’d join me in a water shower. You hate these.”

“I find myself quite willing to endure many a thing I once considered unpleasant, if you are there to participate with me,” Spock’s soft voice murmured. It was followed by Spock’s lean, hard body pressing itself along Jim’s back, his swelling sheath with the head of his penis poking out, right into the back of Jim’s thigh.

Jim’s body responded instantly, a pool of heat and desire in his stomach spreading out, his groin filling. He arched backward against Spock, and felt the barely-there shudder of the Vulcan. “I have a feeling we can find a way to make a lot of things pleasant.”

“Indeed,” Spock said. He reached around to Jim’s front, pressing both palms flat against Jim’s chest, and drew him away from the wall, into Spock’s front. Spock’s mouth descended after that, clamping down with just the bare edges of teeth at the curve where neck met shoulder. When Jim groaned and shifted back against Spock even harder, Spock released his bite and dragged his rough tongue along Jim’s skin to his ear, tracing the shell with half-parted lips. “I believe that is a hypothesis worth testing.”

“Yeah,” Jim said, a half-question. His eyes started to open, but fluttered shut when Spock’s hand drifted downward to the starting swell of his erection. He gripped it with the circle of his forefinger and thumb, and carefully stroked until the head of his penis came free of the foreskin. Jim sucked in breath through his teeth as Spock pressed a thumb to the slid, then in careful, circular motions, spread the thick bead of precoma around.

Before Jim could get anywhere near release, Spock’s hands suddenly fell away. Jim’s mouth opened to protest, but Spock merely turned him, bossing him backward against the wall. He reached above Jim’s head for the shelf, and brought down the pearly, earthy soap Uhura had purchased for him as his last birthday gift. Jim watched with hooded eyes as Spock poured the soap into the center of his palm, and Jim shivered all over because he knew how intimate this was.

Vulcans rarely accomplished such a task with water and soap, and ever with their bare hands. But he was doing it now, dragging sudsy fingers through the thatch of hair on Jim’s chest, over the curves of his shoulders, down his arms. He took a moment to drag his own fingers between Jim’s pressing thumbs into palms and unclenching muscles Jim hadn’t realized were strained.

Jim’s head lolled against the tiles as Spock’s hands drifted lower, washing around his hard penis through the wiry hair there, then turning him to get his shoulder blades, the small of his back. Jim felt him hesitate over the scarring, and the touch grow lighter. He could feel Spock’s hesitation and trepidation at the memories of what caused such marks to linger on his skin, and Jim almost said something, but then Spock’s hands moved on.

Two fingers slid between the crack of his ass, pressing at his puckered hole, though not slipping inside. They drifted down, pressing against his perineum making him gasp and fuck forward with his hips only to meet unforgiving wall.

Spock hushed him quietly with a kiss to the back of the neck before moving up to wash his hair with careful, perfunctory strokes along his scalp. When he was clean, Spock pulled him gently into the spray of water and cupped the stream into his hands as he washed Jim clear of dirt, soap, and the last vestiges of an empty planet.

“Come,” Spock said, and turned the controls off before reaching for his own robe. He slipped it on, unmindful of the way the Vulcan silk clung to his skin, and he took Jim’s dripping hand in one of his own, a towel in the other, and led them to Spock’s room.

The warmth there felt like a balm against Jim’s body, and he put up no resistance as Spock eased him onto the bed and began to dry him with careful swipes of the towel. With strong, steady hands, Spock turned Jim onto his front, and began a careful drying of his back—again those same, hesitant touches over his scars.

“I know they’re ugly, and Bones thinks they’ll fade after some time so you won’t have to see them forever,” Jim muttered.

His words fell silent as Spock’s body covered his own, as warm lips pressed behind his ear, then over his neck. Jim’s mouth fell open as Spock’s mouth moved over the curve of his shoulder, and then over each stripe from the echo of a vicious whip. “I do not think any part of you is ugly, ashayam,” Spock murmured against his flush-warm skin. “I do not enjoy the memory of what caused them, that it still might cause you distress. But nothing about you could displease me.”

Jim closed his eyes and pushed away the thoughts of the arena, and the Gamesters and the pain in favor of Spock’s talented hands and ever-wandering mouth. His skin heated up further under Spock’s ministrations, and he turned easily when Spock urged him onto his back.

Jim’s eyes fluttered open only for a second, just to get a glimpse of the gorgeous, green-flushed Vulcan kneeling between his parted legs. Spock’s face showed little expression, but his pupils were blown wide, and his mouth was open just enough to take in air as he ran his hands wonderingly through the light, coarse hair of Jim’s thighs.

“Jim,” Spock said reverently. “T’hy’la.” 

The word washed over Jim, unfamiliar but he could all-but feel the meaning in it as Spock’s hand rested low on his belly. Jim opened his mouth to respond, but the only thing that escaped him was a soft groan as Spock’s head lowered, and he took Jim into his mouth.

Jim grunted as Spock gave a firm suck, dragging his mouth to the tip, then surging down again. Jim’s hand fluttered in the air for a second before finding purchase at the base of Spock’s neck, and he couldn’t help but urge Spock’s rhythm on a little faster.

Spock complied with ease, allowing Jim’s hips to fuck upward slightly, to grip his neck tight. Spock groaned with Jim, and just before Jim’s orgasm crested, Spock pulled away. 

“Fuck,” Jim gasped, unthinkingly pushing his cock upward in hopes of finding Spock’s mouth again.

Spock’s fingers dug into Jim’s hips, stilling him as he murmured, “Peace, ashayam. I will not leave you wanting.” Spock adjusted himself so his own penis, shorter but hard and covered with small villi which were dripping with want, was pushed up against Jim’s. At the contact, he felt the villi begin to pulse, and his hips arched toward it, seeking more friction.

Spock hissed his pleasure through his teeth as he propped himself on one arm, wrapping his long-fingered hand around them both, and began to stroke in time with Jim’s undulating hips. Jim’s eyes squeezed shut as Spock’s head descended, and their mouths met, Spock’s tongue fucking in between his lips with the same rhythm he stroked them both.

Jim’s hands clutched at Spock’s hips in a bruising grip as his orgasm approached again, his face going white-hot, pleasure pooling in his belly until he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Let go, Jim,” Spock murmured against his lips.

Jim had no choice but to obey. His penis throbbed, and his testicles tightened, and he came in short spurts over Spock’s knuckles.

Spock did not release him, instead loosening his grip so he could push his penis along the length of Jim’s softening one. Jim felt the villi trembling with Spock’s impending release, and Spock attempted to kiss him again, though it became nothing more than panting against Jim’s lips as his arm trembled. Spock let out a soft, breathy, “Ahh,” and then Jim felt his hot seed spilling, mingling with his own.

Boneless, Spock managed to ease himself to the side before losing all strength, and their only connection was Spock’s hand curled tight against Jim’s hip. Jim allowed himself to bask, to linger in the afterglow and the lingering connection of Spock’s touch-telepathy which was sending ebbing waves of happiness and pleasure right into Jim’s skin.

Eventually the fluid began to congeal and cool, and it was uncomfortable enough that Jim forced himself to push up and stumble into the bathroom. He grabbed a cloth from the cabinet, running it under the last of his water ration, cleaning himself off before approaching the bed.

Spock’s penis had returned to the sheath, so Jim swiped him carefully on the stomach, then between his folds which made Spock groan, arch toward him, and crack one eye open. As their gazes met, Jim couldn’t help his smile as he reached for Spock’s hand, and with the same, careful motions that Spock had cleaned him in the shower, Jim carefully removed all traces of their love making from his Vulcan.

“Thank you,” Spock said.

Jim merely nodded, letting the cloth fall to the floor as he climbed back on the bed which was, in truth, far too small to hold them both. But Spock tucked himself in close the moment Jim was beneath the covers, and Jim found himself pleasantly surprised by how clingy the Vulcan remained, even after their coupling had ended.

“You are concerned,” Spock said.

Jim shrugged one shoulder, turning to nuzzle against Spock’s shoulder. “I…guess I’m not sure what all this means. You know, for us? I mean, I know things with you and Nyota didn’t end all that long ago, and I don’t want to rush you into something you’re not ready for.”

Spock shook his head, reaching for Jim’s face, touching his chin to tilt his face up. “I would not engage in sexual congress lightly, Jim. And being aware of the depth of your regard for me, I would not be so callous as to make light of this. I have no wish to cause your further pain. More so, this is nothing I have not thought about, and desired, for more time than it is truly appropriate.”

Jim felt his cheeks heat up, but he leaned in for a kiss, and was met happily and readily by Spock’s own mouth. “Okay.”

Spock ordered the lights down, and then settled in to sleep a few hours before they had to be back on shift. “I cherish thee, Jim.”

Jim hooked his arm around Spock’s waist and held him tight, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I love you too, Spock.”

In those words, neither one of them could find a single trace of a lie.


End file.
